


Bros before hoes... Guess that makes me the hoe.

by Luxi_Storyteller



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Angry Sex, F/F, Fine Stud Lexa, G!p Lexa, Octexa!Broship, Smut, So much soccer, Soccer, babygirl!clarke, forgive me sex, jealous!Clarke
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-11
Updated: 2016-04-11
Packaged: 2018-06-01 16:11:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6526993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luxi_Storyteller/pseuds/Luxi_Storyteller
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Luxi has a troll and she deleted all of her works expect those she is working on with her co-authors. I didn't want them to disappear, so I have her permission to repost some of her works. Therefore, you may have read this already. I am supposed to write the sequel... we'll see. </p><p>Clarke and Lexa are a new "relationship," if it can really even be called that. Lexa has agreed to meet Clarke's friends and finds a new friend in the equally soccer obsessed Octavia. Raven stands by knowing that Clarke is trying to deal, but how does a girl from the streets fit in a world of mansions and fancy cars?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sincerely_v](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sincerely_v/gifts).



Warm spring air didn’t help the heat pulsing through my core, as I kneeled between Lexa’s strong thighs. Her head thrown back with pants open to allow her erect cock free from constriction. Free for me to run my tongue up the base of the shaft to thank her. Thank her for allowing my friends to come and watch the soccer game that normally I would pretend to enjoy as she paced the room and screamed at the 90 inch television over the announcers blaring through the surround sound. 

Fingers card through my hair before securing a firm grip in the roots and guiding me smoothly up as her hips jut forward and dick tip presses against my mouth. I know what she wants, and I can tell by the way the flesh pulses against my lips the time I wanted to take on pleasuring her is fading with her impending release. 

Lexa’s chin drops and warm green eyes beg me. The words will rarely fall from her lips. My billionaire commander in the boardroom and the bedroom does not beg. No matter how hard I try, she will not beg. Giving up an orgasm to sustain her pride. Sustain her control, as badly as I try to hold on to mine. 

“I’ll take care of you, Commander,” I tell her hands rubbing against her jean covered thighs, before swirling my tongue around the tip of the red pulsing flesh. Dipping my tongue into the tiny divot allowing the tangy sweetness settle over my buds. Humming in approval, I wrap my lips around her head and twist my hand up smoothly. The shaft leaking more of Lexa into my mouth as I flick my tongue over the tip. Savoring the early stages of her pleasure.

Her hand tightens and I feel the pressure on my head as she presses her hips forwards, using my mouth to pleasure herself. Flattening my tongue, I give Lexa the ability to take control and softly rut into my mouth. I meet her thrusts with her guidance as I bob with her steady rhythm. I am preparing my throat to accept her release, when her cock jerks from my mouth, grazing against my teeth. 

Lexa hisses at the release, but she is up from the chair. Her hand releasing from my hair as her cock twitches angrily at being free from my mouth. “Lexa?” I ask, but her hand drops and holds it out for me to get up. I want to deny her request. I want to take her member back between my lips to satisfy her, but I know better. I know if I try to suck her now she will hold out on me later. This careful game of cat and mouse that I am sure is a hint for something much darker and more whips and chains type shit that she will pull out of some hidden room in this giant fucking house when we get further into this… I don’t even know if I can call it a relationship.

Glancing up at her, I want to protest. I want to force her commanding ass back into the chair. But this all started because I wanted to thank her, and if she wants me up, then I will get up. 

As I rise to my feet she turns me. Turns me so I can see the circle driveway that is lined with a carefully landscaped greenery, bringing in all the freshness that a life in the city denies her every time she drives to the city. 

Her lips lock around my neck as her fingers work at the button of my jeans, and then the zipper. Her hand dipping down to my drenched center and pressing her finger to my clit. Tracing her name over my pleasure point. 

Withdrawing her hand, she brings the finger to my lips. The slick coats my lips, but she pulls back not letting me take them into my lips. Not letting me do anything besides grip the guard rail, as she pulls down my jeans, leaving them tight around my ankles and feet fixed in place.

“Now, pretty girl,” she starts, and just the words have me biting my lips so I don’t moan at her smooth words falling from her lips just past my ears. Her fingers work between my thighs, pressing within, and spreading. Stretching me to accommodate her. A size my body has yet to become accustomed to taking with the vigor that Lexa likes to pump within me. I

know with this steady build up, she is planning to bottom out with the first thrust, and the knowledge just makes me wetter. “You were such a good girl working so hard to swallow me. Such a good pretty girl that I wanted to share this pleasure with you.”

Her fingers withdraw, but I don’t have time to process the loss as her cock impales me roughly. I catch my breath as the length glides out and then presses within again. I lean forward so my ass can stand out just a little but further. Her hand comes down and massages my ass as she practically lifts me up with each thrust. I feel like she may spank me, and I am not against that all. I mean we haven’t gotten there yet. Its really only been six months.

I try to keep my eyes open, but they are rolling back as her body becomes flush with mine, and her cock finds a fluttering home within me. Her arms pulling me up so I am balanced on her strong member. Her lips whispering, “You take me so well, pretty girl that I am going to give you a present.” One hand finds my pulsing clit and she is tracing her name against it as she barely thrust within.

She barely pushes within me, while my friends’ cars pull into the driveway. Barely pushes in as she laughs and tells me, “I guess we don’t have time.” 

She leans me forward again as she releases my clit. The edge I was approaching vaporizing. I cry out, but she pushes into me and she says, “Well you wanted to invite your friends over.” And with two quick pumps and she is emptying within me. Her body shivering as her fingers dig into my hips so she is as dip as possible when she gives me everything she has. Emptying everything she has, even though I am not done. There is no way I can be done, as I hear Octavia and Raven just a floor below us.

“Holy shit!” Raven says with a whistle. Her voice is loud and I know she must’ve seen us on the balcony.

Octavia, my younger soccer fan, answering her, “Did Clarke become a sugar baby or something? This Lex person had better not be old and like gross. I don’t care how rich he is, she better not be selling her pussy or something. Student loan debt ain’t worth that.”

Lexa laughs again, as she pushes within me for one last good measure. I wonder if she worries that I am after her money. I mean, I’m not. I want nothing to do with it. I don’t even want to get married. Not after what marriage did to my parents. 

She withdraws from within me. Leaving me empty except for the seed that hopefully my birth control will stop from any unexpected additions to our lives.I don’t even turn before she has herself tucked away, and is pulling my pants up. Pulling my pants up, while I am still seeping with her cum. I try to stop her, “Lex, I need to-”

But her finger comes up to my lips, silencing me. Her soft eyes telling me we are not done, and I just need to be patient. That she wants her cum within me, spilling through the game into my panties. Her voice carefully measured as she confesses, “I enjoy having you claimed.” I see something there though. Something like a possessive plea. Her words only confirming, her wishes, “My understanding is that you once ‘dated’ the one named Raven… and I just want to know that its me. Me inside of you. Apart of you.”

My head tilts. _How did she know about Raven and I’s not so fake relationship?_ And the question floating through my mind is answered. Her lips curling as she informs me, “Facebook, baby girl. Facebook.”

_Mother fucking Facebook. Now I am going to-_ but I can’t finish my thought.

Lexa has her lips pressed to mine so softly. Her tongue mapping my mouth. Mapping me as her hands pull me in impossibly close, before pulling back just enough to look deep within me, like she can see the me I bury. 

“If you really want to change you know you can…” and she pauses, still looking me over, “I just enjoy knowing that you are mine. Claimed… like in those pornie fanfics you read about us.”

I giggle, tapping her chest, “If only your stalkers knew that you really do have a dick. And you really do try and fuck me everywhere.”

Lexa smiled, “And if only they knew how much you love to beg for it. I’m sure you could learn a whole new language of profanities.”

My face is red as she pulls me in tightly against her chest. Holding me in an embrace that is all encompassing. My body melding into her, thinking that maybe being hers is not such a bad idea. But then the worry crosses me again, and I tilt my head up to see her beautiful jaw that is angles so she can see out over the front of the relatively secluded home. 

“Baby girl?”

Her chest jumps as a laughing huff exits her slightly parted lips. Her heart beating just a tad bit faster as she says, “Well you are my sugar baby.”

I don’t know if she realizes how her words hit me. Or even all the implicates of the statement. And maybe she doesn’t think I am the one using her. Maybe she enjoys me, but there will be another. Another sugar baby to take my spot. I mean… it’s only been six months. Six months of get aways and fancy dinners. Of Netflix and chill, and red carpet events. Of being dressed up like a doll, and dangling on her arm like a fucking trophy.

My muscles are tense, and I try to push it away. But she knows. She knows, and her fingers are tilting my chin up to look at her. Green irises cloudy, and understanding, “Clark, I didn’t think. That was… no it was inexcusable.” 

Her lower lip is sucked into her mouth, and her mind is moving so fast, I worry she may overheat or fire a circuit. Trying anything, I say, “I don’t want your money.”

Nodding silently, she releases me some. Taking my hand carefully in hers, she tells me, “I’m yours. I know we haven’t spoken of labels or titles… just know I’m yours.”

Pulling her hand up to lay over my sternum, I gaze back at her. Giving her just a single word, “Yours.”


	2. Chapter 2

Lexa leads me down the large staircase just as my friends are let into the massive foyer. Her fingers intertwined with mine tighten a little, telling me she is nervous about meeting my friends. She would not admit it, but we had avoided her entering my day to day life. 

Raven’s eyes wander around the room, but Octavia is smacking her in the arm in a not so subtle way. The lack of subtlety is amusing to say the least, but Raven’s eyes become practically animated as they grow substantially larger and her jaw opens. 

I can hear them both muttering to each other as they see Lexa’s hand in mine. I can’t make out the words, but Octavia is still smacking Raven in the arm, and Raven is still staring at us. Their lips moving only slightly. 

“Hey guys!” I call down as we descend. 

They don’t answer right away, but Raven seems to be recovering as we make it to the last five steps. The last steps that I lead us, step by step bringing Lexa into my everyday life and out of the fantasy land that she has paraded me through. In spite of being famous, we had managed to keep my friends oblivious to who Lexa was in my life. Truly I was lucky to have friends that found themselves above stalking celebrities on the internet.

Raven’s voice is hearty as she declares, “I won’t lie, Princess, I thought you must be banging some old dude. You clearly found the dudes daughter though, and fuck me I hate you right now.”

I laugh, as we close the remaining distance. Lexa coming up alongside of me. I gesture to my friends respectively, “Lex, this is Raven and Octavia.” 

Her hand extended out to my friends. My friends that weigh her first before Raven takes her hand and shakes it powerfully. “Lexa Trikru, and this is not my father’s house,” Lexa states with a confident smile. 

She seems to grip tighter, and I wonder if it’s for the blasted pet name or because of the Facebook fiasco that clearly needs to be cleaned up. I mean there should only be like one picture, and it was mostly innocent. It was just use kinda kissing… but that was because we needed to deal with fuckboi Finn. And we were inebriated.

Raven tugs her hand back, running her eyes over Lexa again. Rolling my eyes, I explain with one word, “Facebook.”

Realization spreads over her face, along with a cocky grin. Her shoulders straightening and chest puffing out a little. I catalogue her actions to later write into that ABO fic I have been playing with. The one that Lexa loves because she gets to be proud of her cock, even though I wrote about that time I caught her flicking popcorn into her mouth because she thought I was asleep. 

Octavia finally speaks, “How did you get the white Press jersey? I have been trying to get a white Press jersey for months now. It’s like the impossible though.” 

Lexa shrugs and lays a hand possessively around my waist as she moves in closer. I watch Raven carefully, knowing that she is taking this all in. That she is processing the way that Lexa holds on to me. I can’t tell if she is pleased or annoyed. 

Looking over to Lexa, I see her own eyes weighing Octavia. Deciding if she is worthy of her time, or just a presence she will tolerate. With a subtle head tilt, she glances down at the white material clinging easily to her body. 

“I… well… I own a large portion of stock options in Nike, and I have a friend,” she answers. It’s mostly true. Watered down about how much she really has her hands involved with Nike, but it seems to do the trick, because I swear if I cut open Octavia, she blood would be emerald with jealousy. Lexa tells her, “I like your Harris jersey. I have that one too upstairs, but Press is my girl.”

Octavia slaps Raven again, “Douche, I need to invest in Nike.”

I roll my eyes, and tug on Lexa. Looking up into the proud green eyes, I say, “Wanna show them your soccer room?”

“You have a room just for soccer?” My younger friend asks, her energy coming off her in waves as she bounces lightly on the balls of her feet. The innocent fluffiness that makes Octavia just so wonderful.

Nodding, Lexa gestures to the left where Octavia begins to walk without leadership. Turning her head back to us, the soft green eyes begging for permission to proceed. Lexa laughs a little and releases me. Taking her new admirer to the room that is completely decked in soccer paraphernalia. 

Raven comes to stand beside me, looking over Lexa as she turns the corner. “She’s… intense.”

“She is worried about meeting you guys,” I tell my friend. 

She hums a little, and then looks around us. “I feel like we should have been warned about her. I mean damn Clarke, she is…”

“Amazing,” I provide.

Shaking her head, Raven says, “intimidating. Rich as fuck. Crazy about you.”

“You think?” I ask. I am not sure why, but I need her reassurance. I need her to tell me I am not crazy for being here. For being here so far away from my cramped studio apartment of survival mode. Figuring out how to balance the utilities with the need to eat. 

Raven turns so she can face me. Her eyes scanning over my face, as she says, “You’re in deep, huh?” I bite my lip as I nod, publically acknowledging how crazy and insecure about falling for this woman. This beautiful and powerful woman that had me in her melting into her every desire and whim. 

Licking her lips, she answered my question, “You don’t get to see the way she watches you, while watching everything else as well. Like she would lay down her life for you, and only you. That you are the fucking sun that makes the day, Princess. So to say she’s crazy about you is an understatement.”

I wrap my arms around her neck and pull Raven into a tight hug. Holding her the way she always held me when the world was crashing around me. And I wonder if it is crashing now. I mean, I can’t be the girl. The girl from the street that snags the crazy rich and selfless woman.

Our embrace is interrupted by Octavia though. The brunette, wearing one of Lexa’s American flag snap backs that the woman had tried endlessly to get me to wear, bounces into the room, as she declares, “She has a WHOLE ROOM with National Team decor. Like A WHOLE ROOM.” Her hands up in the air and then on me, and she is jumping. Well hopping and using me to get higher, as she begs, “Can I keep her, Clarke. Please. Please, Mom, can I keep her.”

Eyes squinting some, I push away her hands that are practically mauling me. “You maynot keep her. She is mine,” And I am not sure why, but I feel like I may growl at my friend if she suggests once more that she wants to keep Lexa. 

Raven pats my back, and chuckles lightly, “She doesn’t mean she wants to fuck her. We all know Octavia only goes for the beaver basher.” I swallow, hoping that my face doesn’t show the secret that Lexa hides so carefully. Looking over Octavia’s shoulder I see Lexa in her matching hat standing in the craftsman framed walkway. Her face equally worried. 

Octavia doesn’t seem to notice though. She instead is glaring at the eldest of our holy trinity of friendship. “You must be a fourth grader!” Tension leaving my muscles, as I glance over and see Lexa in the hallway. Lexa’s chest falls, and her shoulders relax some. It’s the same way her body seems to ease as that first night she stood bare before me. When the concern seemed to prick her skin up, as her eyes searched me for understanding that was not just beautiful, but extraordinary. Her sleek abdominal muscles framing the perfect v towards her full erect cock, as she shifted her feet losing all of the confidence that I had grown accustomed to throughout our four months of gradual dating. The way I had to coax her into coming closer to me so I could admire her, and then sleep with her wrapped so tightly around me so she could be sure that I wouldn’t run away. Like I could run after she had fucked me so thoroughly my legs were still shaking the next morning that I could barely walk. 

Clearing her throat, Lexa announced, “The game is about to begin.”

Octavia squeal and runs back to leg, wrapping her arm under Lexa’s and allowing my girl to guide her back to the soccer room. I feel my stomach twist the way that Lexa so easily takes my friend from the room and engages in some talk about Princess Keurig… no wait, that’s the coffee maker... Kreg… Kriegs... or something. 

_I thought I was her princess._

Raven wraps her arm over my shoulder, and squeezes me lightly. She knows that something is brewing. She always knows when something is brewing, like her jedi powers tingle of something. “She won’t try and steal your girl,” she states. And I know it’s true. I know Octavia would never try to hurt me, but that doesn’t mean Lexa won’t find something in the woman that shares her interests, is more carefree, and is definitely more visually appealing.

The twisting in my gut doesn’t let up, rather only causes the bile to rise in my throat. My heart beating too quickly, as my feet lead Raven down to where the announcers’ voices are blaring from build in speakers.

Turning into the room, the national anthem begins to play. Lexa and Octavia stand before the television hats off and held cross their heart. Together they sing, “and the land of the free and the home of the brave” as out of tune as possible. 

They look as though they were made for each other. Swaying with the anthem in sync. The whole thing makes me sick, and I excuse myself with just a look to Raven. Raven who nods knowingly, and lets me leave the room without a question. 

The bathroom greets me with warm lighting, as I grip the sink. Staring at the blue eyed blonde with equal disdain reflected in her eyes. I wondered if whatever plane she is living on, she has a Lexa at this better made for her best friend. Shaking away the childish fantasies, I splash cold water over my face, before grabbing the hand towel and pat my face dry.

Looking at the girl in the mirror, I measure her. She doesn’t seem to stack up to the brunettes in the other room. I mean I wasn’t enough for Finn, maybe Lexa needs something better. Something better than me.

Shaking my head, I exit the bathroom to find Raven waiting outside the door. Her brown eyes scanning over me. Looking for answers to questions that we both know. That we both feel. That we both carry. I wonder if she thinks if she can figure me out, then maybe she will be able to figure out herself. The problem is the answers are closed off, hidden in deepest services that have been boarded up and insulated. 

“They are stretching like the team,” Raven state, breaking the silence without the questions. Without askings, because she knows it will take us nowhere but into a deeper silence. A silence that Raven and I are so good at. 

The maid comes down the hallway with a large pizza. Not delivery, not only organic ingredients and freshly made dough for Lexa. I let a breath of laughter fall from my lips as I take the tray from the woman. “Thank you. I’ll take it in for you.” The dark haired woman smiled, before stepping away. 

Raven walks with me back to the room, where Octavia is hopping in the air, and then doing some side to sides. I recognize the moves. The way she is trying to check and make sure the juju is right. 

Lexa is the same way with the pizza, leaning over to where I am placing it on the table. A Budweiser, the can covered in the American flag. Her gaze examines the pizza to ensure that there are the correct number of pepperoni’s on the pizza and that the smaller toppings are all shaped like little stars, and her specially made cutter has sliced the pieces into perfect patterned pieces to resemble a soccer ball. It had taken me sometime to realize that being rich allows you to do even crazier things than I had seen from Octavia. 

Like the way my younger friend would always check with a measuring tape to ensure the exact positioning of the couch to the screen. The couch that she would only hover over, but never really sit. Or how the volume on the television is set to exactly to the number 23. 

The two nod to each other, and give a harsh slapping double high five, as though while I was in the bathroom they had created a special handshake. 

Octavia moves to the end of the couch. Her body hunched over, elbows on the knees. Lexa on the other hand is standing in her game start position. Her hand on the edge of the couch that she will never actually during the game. No, the couch is there for her to fall into at the end, when she will sit down and pull me into her arms. Where I would help her celebrate by sheathing her dick and riding her as she retells the game for me. Recounting every single goal that I had seen with her. This clearly isn’t on the agenda for today though.

Raven’s hand is on my lower back, nudging me towards Lexa. I want to reach out and hold her, but I don’t. I don’t because she is in game mode, and I could mess up the juju that her and Octavia had carefully crafted together. Lexa and Octavia together. The thought makes me want to vomit, but I sneak around the woman who I had to beg to meet her new bro.

Flopping into the couch, Raven takes a seat in an arm chair off to the side. Her stance is similar to Octavia’s, and I know she is equally interested in the game. I seem to be the only person that is not even somewhat interested in the game. 

The announcers call out the list of names, but all I hear is “ _blah blah blah…_ Krieger… _blah blah blah… Harris in the goal…. Press forward… blah blah blah.”_ I mean they all look like little blue ants running around the field. 

The announcers continue to drawl on, as the little blobs move around the vast turf. “ _Morgan kicks it off to Lloyd in the middle. She passes it out to Brian, who is running the line square. Press is playing a high striking forward. She makes a break to the end line and Brian fires a volley over the back line.”_

Octavia stands up. Her body ready as Lexa begins her pace before the television. Each with a beer tightly gripped in hand, and I could tell that Octavia is being more careful than usual. She is probably terrified of spilling. 

“ _Press out runs the last japanese defender and takes one touch to the right._ ” Lexa pauses and Octavia takes her hand. Each with their knees slightly bent in anticipation of jumping in the air. _“She uses the outside of her boot and-”_

“GOAL!” The three scream as the jump occurs, beer totally spilling. Lexa fist pumping the air. 

Octavia starts to walk throughout the general area with arms outstretched cursing excitedly, and Lexa is moving the opposite direction, before they seem in sync. They meet back in the middle as they get ready to show the replays. They don’t just stop though, no they slam into each other. Chest bumping and slapping each other’s hands.

The commercial hits, and normally Lexa would be explaining to me what is going on, but I might as well be a poster on the wall. _No that would mean you are important, which you aren’t. Not when it comes to bros._

Lexa grabs three beers, handing a fresh one to each of my friends. Octavia’s face spreads into a wicked grip, and her keys are out of her pocket. Popping a hole into the base of upside beer can. Handing the keys to Raven, my friend follows. Lexa watches carefully, and I can tell she is about to add a new ritual to her repitar. She takes the keys that Raven is holding out and mimics my friend’s actions. Before I can even speak, the three of them have the open hole into their mouth, and together they down the shotgun beers. Crunching the cans in one hand and tossing them to the trashcan, as they all yell out , “Murica!” 

The cheers are tuned out, as the announcers come back, “ _They bring the ball back to the middle and Japan has the kick off. There is a few minutes of back and forth passing. They are carrying the ball from the backfield up making overlapping runs up the line and then dropping it back to the midfield. One of the strikers beats Kling on the line,”_

And Lexa is screaming at the television, _“_ Come on! You can’t play for us and be that slow!” 

_“They have a deep corner run that Johnston slide tackles out of bounds giving them a corner kick.”_ Octavia starts making the sign of the cross while Lexa reassures her that Harris has got this. Lexa moves with Octavia, and she fucking sits. She never sits, but with Octavia she hover sits over the couch. And I stare at them. My knees coming up to my chest. 

Their hands are holding. All four hands clinging together. She only ever clings to one of my hands, and rarely in public. My eyes watch every detail. The way Octavia leans into Lexa. The way their entire bodies are aligned so that they could be conjoined. 

_“They have a high set piece so they pass it into a girl close to the corner flag and then cross it over the 18. Okina volleys it into the upper ninety but Harris finger rolls it out and off the post.”_

Their bodies fly through the air again as they fucking lose it.

“Fuck yeah!” Lexa cries out. Her body turning to Octavia, who quickly wraps her arms around the neck of what is mine, and squeezes her. I watch the way Lexa’s arms easily wrap around Octavia’s middle. The way they are jumping together, and I can see them falling onto the couch as Octavia replaces me so easily in Lexa’s arms. 

I glance up at the screen and realize that we are at half time. We are at half time, and I hear Octavia announces, “Dude, we should go to RIO! It’s the Olympics!”

I expect Lexa to come over to me for her halftime embrace. To press her lips to mine the way she always does. But she doesn’t.

She doesn’t even acknowledge me, even when I get up and run my fingers over her shoulder blades. Her eyes too focused on the greenish blue of my friend. My friend that came to meet the person that is super important to me. And I guess she is meeting her for sure. 

“We could. We could fly down. I’m sure I can find us a place.”

_Did she just say us? And plane?_

Lexa doesn’t fly, I know this. Lexa doesn’t fly due to her parent’s accident when she was still a teenager. Lexa is terrified of flying. Making us drive everywhere she wants or needs to go. But she is willing to fly with Octavia. Of course she would fly to Rio with Octavia to watch soccer.

Lexa pulls out her phone, and she is quickly commanding in the phone, “Yes, I need a plane. No, Titus. Get me a plane. We are going to Rio this summer, and I need a plane.”

_Wait… she just… she bought a plane for Octavia_.

Octavia is bouncing again, but I tell scold her. “O, you can’t just leave everything to go to Rio. The Olympics are expensive.” She knows this. I know she knows this. But she doesn’t seem to care. 

“Clarke, I can make it work,” her body turning back to Lexa. “I’ll pay my half. I promise. I’m not a freeloader.”

_Did she just suggest to Lexa that I was a freeloader?_

“And we can get matching outfits,” her phone flipping through images of cheesy American flag shirts that I know the Lexa that wears only tailored suits on non-soccer days would never be caught dead in. But she is nodding to my friend. Nodding and agreeing to wear Raybands and American Flag button ups to see the United States’ Women’s National compete in the Olympics.

I try to get Lexa’s attention again, but she turns her back to me. She turns away still giving instructions over the phone when Octavia says, “It’s coming back on.”

Lexa doesn’t even say goodbye as she hangs up the phone. Her attention back on the television with Octavia under her arm. The younger girl holds up her fist, and states, “Snapback bros for life.”

_Lexa won’t fall for something that cheesy_. 

But she does. Her fist hitting Octavia’s and coming out as they both imitated the marshmallow looking character on that one movie, “Fa-la-la-la-la.” The both break out into giggles, as the game comes back on the screen. And I swallow the reality that I can’t compete with this. There is no possible way.

Rolling my eyes, I exhale, “Why don’t you just ride her dick already, O.” And as the words fall out, my hand comes up. My hands comes up and covers my mouth. Trying to trap the words back in, but I can’t. I can’t as all faces are on me. 

Octavia laughs, as she turns back to Lexa, “Someone is jealous of our broship.” Her eyes scanning over Lexa’s face. Lexa’s face that is unnaturally pale. My friend’s brows scrunch, before her eyes fall to where Lexa’s hand is partially guarding her slight bulge that always comes from soccer porn. 

With a tilted head, Octavia practically zooms her eyes into Lexa’s crotch. “Uh…” she says.

Raven cuts in and just nods to Lexa, “It’s all good. If nothing else, you just became that much hotter to O.”

Without a second though, Octavia leans in and hugs Lexa. “Dude, that is totally awesome. I have a few straps but for damn the number times I have wondered what I would do if I had a dick for a day.”

Lexa snorts, and she seems to becoming more comfortable with Octavia’s proximity. “Well it’s always a little weird.” Her eyes turning to me, “And I don’t usually let people know.” I swallow and try to apologize with my eyes, but I can see the hurt there. The hurt that I caused all because I was angry.

Octavia just laughs like nothing has changed. Her voice proud of how awesome her new friend is, as she digs into me, “Clarkie, is just clearly jealous of our broship. Just let her stir.” And there is that word again. 

I can’t even defend myself, before they are back to holding each other. All eyes are fastened to the screen. The blue blobs doing something that has them holding hands once more. I have become once again a part of the decor. Just another decoration that has a time and place. While Octavia. Octavia fits. She fits alongside Lexa. 

I can only hear them call each other bro so many times, before I find myself muttering the familiar words that every high school girl learns in their life, “Bros before hoes.” Inadequacy draining from my being, as my bones soften and muscles cease firing to contract. Recognizing my place. “I guess that makes me the hoe.”

Without another word, I am up off the couch. Off the couch and walking from the room as I hear Octavia and Lexa cheer out, “Fuck yes!” and, “Take that bitches!”

No one follows me out of the room. No one follows me down the hallway. No one notices as I leave the house and get into my beat up Hyundai Tucson. The radio blasting as I turn on the car. I have to hit the nob, because the song that comes on is the last song that she sang to me. The last song she will sing to me, because I’m not going to be her fucking trophy trinket. I’m not going to be a bauble that sparkles on her arm. 

My fist slams into the steering wheel as I drive down the two lane highway. Chest heaving, and I fight away the tears. I can’t love her like this. I can’t. It’s only been six months. It’s only been six months as her sugar baby, because a fine stud like Lexa needs a sugar baby. That’s not the point though. 

The point is…

I don’t even know. Well I know one thing. I know that Octavia is better with Lexa. The way they fit. She would fit that dress that is pooled still on the floor, next to the bed. She would whew people that I didn’t have the courage to even speak to. She is everything I am not. 

My phone buzzes in the console, with Lexa smiling face appearing on the scream. I glance down, and feel the guilt raging through me. But the guilt is nothing, compared the emptiness that is in my chest. The emptiness from where my heart use to beat. But doesn’t any longer. No, it can’t. It can’t be in my chest.

I gave it to Lexa, and she still has it.

She still has it in her possession.

But why don’t I have hers?


	3. Chapter 3

Funny how my morning started on a balcony getting fucked, and it’s going to end that way too. Well fucked up, but it’s kinda the same thing right? The tiny front porch is lit dimly, the coals on the top of the green and clear glass hookah are burning brighter, as I suck in through the plastic tipped hose. Suck in watching rain hitting the rust covered cars of nobodies like me in this shit hole apartment that suits every aspect of my life.My lungs filling with the peachy flavored tobacco that pisses me off because it reminds me of Lexa. 

The way Lexa smells after a shower. The lotion she applies to her skin. The way the soft hairs on her arms and back are as silky as the wild curls that turn her from just beautiful to gorgeous. I kick the weak railing that my feet rest again. Its vibrations shaking through me, moving my blood that is surely poisoning the rest of my begin. 

Taking in a another deep inhale and circling my lips as I push huff out thick o’s, I watch the clouds roll over the darkening sky. The weather seeming to understand the storm brewing within me. Freezing my soul in a truly Elsa fashion. I could pull off the white hair. Maybe I should move to Disneyland and become a fucking princess. I mean then I can at least pretend to be important. Instead of a bar wench, scraping by on traveler’s tips that think its cute to stare down my shirt while ordering a drink of pinch my ass as I walk by. 

Reaching over I grab the tall orangish drink that is more of vodka with a splash of orange juice. Liquid that coats and burns down my throat. Numbing the ache of emptiness within my chest. 

I was stupid to think that being there was possible. That I could just adjust, when this is where I belong. This is who I am. 

Lights shine as the car pulls into the parking lot. It’s too nice of a car to just be anyone and panic settles within. Edging my nerves, as my flight instinct kicks in. My weighted limbs don’t cooperate though, and I am midway up when the car door opens and the perfectly put together steps out with a familiar bag in her grasp. 

My backpack. 

The pack that I had brought my change of clothes to have for today. The clothes that I am no longer wearing, because I had stripped when I got home and tried to scrub away all remnants of Lexa from my skin. Holding the shower head to rid her from within me. But there was nothing I could do about the claim marks that littered my skin, at least a week’s worth of remembering her. 

“Clarke,” she calls up, and I can’t turn away from her. Grabbing my drink instead I stare up at the sky. Leaning against the shaky metal railing. Maybe it will just give out so I can end my fight. 

“Lek-sa,” I try to answer, but the slur is undeniable. Maybe I shouldn’t have drank three of these things. Too late now, so I take another gulp of liquid. Hoping for the courage to tell Lexa to leave. Her chin falls and she shakes her head.She knows that I don’t drink anymore. Knows my aversion to alcohol that I am now probably fifty percent filled with. “How did you even find my place?”

“I’ve always known where you live, Ca-lark,” she states as though it is the most natural thing to know. Like she visits here and we take turns sleeping at each other’s house. 

She takes a step forward, but stops. Looking at the crumbling concrete stairs, that match my crumbling resolve. “What are you doin’ here?” I ask, not really even sure how she got my address. 

Lexa’s eyes scan over me, and I know she is disapproving of everything that is me. Her life filled with healthy choices, and mine a list of poor choices. She looks around, and then back up at me. Her eyes glinting in the poor light. 

“I wanted… I needed to make sure that you were safe.”

I hold out my hand, “Well, I’m home. I’m drunk. I’m smoking. And I guess even in this shitty neighborhood, I’m safe.” I watch her carefully. Her shoulders straight and jaw regally set in a stoic expression. So I throw in there, “I can’t promise as much for your car though. Not often anyone around here will see a Maserati.” Then for just a little more of a slap, I add, “I’m sure O would love a seaside drive, and even Raven would let you fuck her against the hood if you let her look at the engine.”

Yeah, that was not okay. I will need to apologize to my friends for my behavior tomorrow. But that’s tomorrow. Right now… well, right now, I’m pissed off and I want her to feel as crappy as me. I want Lexa to know what it means to feel completely used.

She seems to get it, because she sets the bag down on the bottom step. She doesn’t leave though. Instead leans against her car, and watches me. Watches me so intently that I’m not even positive I can handle her being here. I mean, what if she wants to come inside? What if she wants to see that I am too poor to afford walls to separate my couch from my bed?

Waving my hand in the air dismissively, “Just go back to your life, Lexa. I don’t belong there.”

I move back to my seat, and inhale another deep breath of smoke. Her eyes glare, and she says, “Why are you doing this? This isn’t you.”

The statement has me laughing. A painful laughter that hurts and sloshes the liquor in my body that makes me light. Maybe light enough to vaporize like the smoke I am expelling. “This is me. You just didn’t know it. You didn’t know because I’ve just been the shiny blonde on your arm in the dresses you picked for her. Smiling for the cameras, but the truth is...” and I hold up my hands to show her my life. “The truth is that this is me. I’m a childhood delinquent. Working in a bar with her sugar daddy isn’t whisking her around on display so she has to figure out how to pay the rent in a few days without having worked a Saturday night all week.”

Lexa is moving then, but I am still talking. Hoping that my words will scare her away, as I spit at her, “You make executive decisions that alter people’s lives. I, however, flex those decision making abilities on if heat or Top Ramen is more important. Do you even know what Top Ramen is?” I laugh because she wouldn’t. She wouldn’t know, so I tell her, “It’s packaged noodles. Packaged, processed noodles with flavored salt that just needs water.”

She’s up the stairs two at a time, as take my seat again. My single chair next to the little table still holding the hookah. I lean back into the chair, and put the plastic tipped hose to my lips. But it’s yanked away. 

Yanked from my hand, and dropped on the ground. My body free for her to utilize the superior strength we both know she has. Her warm hands locking around my arms and pulling me to my feet. Holding me before her, like she is going to shake me. 

“You just left. You just walked out on me. On everything, after I let you in” Her hands are off me then, as she runs her fingers through her hair. “I had your friends over, since you didn’t seem to want me in your life unless it was on my turf.”

I watch her through my hooded fuzzy eyes. The sincerity and stress that are etched into the thin creases along her eyes. The way her chest is rising and falling. The sheer frustration that radiates from her. It's too much to try and take in. 

I turn from her. My hands secured against the waving rail as I lean over the edge and empty the contents of my stomach on the walkway below. Choking and retching, while her hands come to hold me up and pull my rain frizzed rain from my face so I can vomit the substance that I stopped consuming over a year ago, when it was taking more and more alcohol to get buzzed.

I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand, and turn my head to see her. See Lexa standing by comforting me, after I outed her. Outed her and then left her with my friends to throw a fit. “I don’t deserve you,” I admit. 

She helps me stand back up, but my feet are swept out from under me, and she has me in her arms bridal style. Carrying me to my door that I don’t want her to enter. The world I am terrified she will see and run. 

And my jealousy ringing through for what it really was. The truth that it’s so much easier to reject her, than have her see my reality and know that I will never be good enough to be the princess she likes to refer to me as. 

She twists the nod roughly. Knocking into the door with a foot, and then there is no stopping her from entering the single lamp lit room with wall length studio kitchen. The messy bed that is in one corner, trapped in by the tattered couch so only the only way up is from the bottom. The place where her arms lower me so I can rest with my back against the cool wall.

“You need to brush your teeth,” she commands. Pulling off her jacket and resting it on the arm of the couch. She doesn’t wait for me to move. Instead she moves to the only door in the single room and opening it to the cramped bathroom with just a shower stall, single sink, and pink toilet. 

“Please, Lexa, just go back to your life,” I tell her. 

Lexa doesn’t leave though. Rather, she returns with my toothbrush covered in paste. The brush drips water onto the stained creaking floor, but she still holds it out to me. I have no choice to take it from her, and put it in my mouth. Scrubbing away the bile as winter fresh opens my sinuses. 

Brushes and watches her move through the small space like she owns it. Returning with two glasses. One empty that she holds out, and I take it. Spitting the fluoride filled paste and saliva within, before she thrusts the other glass with water at me. 

“Rinse.” 

I do as I’m told. 

“Good girl,” she praises me. And she takes the glasses and brush from my hands. Returning them to the kitchen sink where the last weeks worth of dishes are still waiting for me to clean. 

She stands at the sink. Balancing her weight against the counter with her back to me. Her shoulders slumped forward, as her exhales deeply and pushes herself up. 

Turning with a fury as she comes back to the bed and throws her hands up, “You just left.” 

I did.

“You just walked out of my home without a word, and I had to get schooled by your friends about how you pretend not to be jealous, but really you are scared shitless that I see you nothing more than as your friend Raven quoted a ‘hoe’.” So, Raven did here me.

My head leans against the wall, and rolls from side to side. “You were all over her.”

Her eyes shine, and then fall backwards with her head as she sighs heavily. “I made a friend. I made a friend with your friend, and you are mad at me.”

I close my eyes to stop the room from tilting. Pressure overwhelming my senses as I feel the axis of the Earth twisting. Not sure if anything but the truth will make it reorientate so up is up, instead of sideways. So I give it a shot, “She’s better for you. She loves the things you love. She is gorgeous and she would fit into your world easily. Octavia’s greatest skill… fitting in. She makes you smile.”

And my eyes shoot open as I spit, “You bought a fucking plane to take her to Rio!” 

I’m up off the bed and stalking over to her with shaky legs. She swallows as she backs up. Her ass hitting the counter, as I glare at her. My finger poking her in the chest. My words seething between my clenched teeth, “You were willing to do anything for her because she loves soccer.”

I trap her, and her mouth opens as she starts to speak. Starts but stops. Words failing her, and she makes a move. 

Surging forward and pulling me flush to her. My body going limp in her arms as her lips press against mine. A kiss of rage and anger. Teeth and tongue clashing, because, even though I am pissed, I still want her. I want her heart. I want to be worthy of it.

She pulls back though. Her face stern as she says, “You said you wanted to see the world. I screwed up. Bad timing, but Clarke it was for you.”

I can’t speak so I take her lips as mine. Wanting to find her heart so I can claim it as mine. But the tears are falling, and her lips become less insistent. Her arms holding me and bringing me into her. Holding my head protectively to her chest. The chest that is rattling between panting breaths and her heart slamming against her chest. 

“Yours,” she says so softly, I think I imagine it. But it comes again. “Completely and utterly yours. I will move next door to prove to you that none of this matters. That I just want to be with you.”

I run my hand over her face, and I feel the tears still falling from my own eyes. “I was scared.” My head falling forward, as her cheek presses against the crown of my hair. “I was scared about… about you being too good for me. About you being a fine stud… and me… I can’t just be your sugar baby. I’m not a hoe. I’m… I want to be worthy of you.”

Her hand comes up and guides my chin up to meet her gaze. Her eyes warm, as she begs, “Let me worship you, Clarke. Let me worship you like the goddess you are. The goddess that owns a room with just her smile. The way you can spin a tale so vividly that I know your books will sell.”

“I’m not enough,” I whisper, but she is shaking her head.

Shaking her head as she inches her lips closer. Closer to my own, saying, “You are everything I want. Everything I need.” Her lips hovering above mine. Waiting for me to decide. Decide between being Clarke Griffin or Lexa’s baby girl. But I realize I could be both. Letting Lexa become apart of my life, rather than me tagging along in hers. “Be mine, Clarke. I’m begging you, Princessa. Be mine.”

And I see a new piece of Lexa. 

The part that will do anything to get what she wants. So I give it to her. Give the rest of myself over to her. Starting my lips, as I close the distance between our lips. Pressing against hers. Her warm breath washing over me as she pulls back and checks with me. A subtle nod that has her pressing forward again. Her hand on my cheek and my waist. Pulling me incredibly closer. 

Her careful arms pushing me backwards, until my legs hit the bed. Hit the bed and give out as I fall back to the weak mattress that squeaks under my weight. The mattress that gives and groans as Lexa crawls over me. Her stance no longer weak, but now predatory. Her eyes so soft though. Her eyes telling me that she’s mine.

She’s mine as she tugs my shirt up and over my head, revealing my unclad breasts. Her hand coming up to massage the flesh that has me moaning. Her lips tracing over hardened nipple, tongue coating the hardened flesh before applying light pressure. Only the release it with a pop when my back arches from the bed and begged for more. 

“I was cruel earlier, Princessa,” she admits. “I left you a wanting mess, and I know that helped you feel like you were used. I want you to know though that I am not selfish.”

Her eyes staring into me, as her hand rests just under my breast. Grounding me to the bed as her palm lights electricity into my chest. Passing the energy through her touch and into my skin, so that I feel the rush of blood coursing through my veins. The steady beat that picks up tempo within me, as she says, “I pledge my fealty to you, Ca-lark. I vow to treat your needs as my own. Your people as my people.”

I lean up to kiss her, but her lips spread revealing her perfect teeth. “No, Princessa. Let me take care of you now.”

Swallowing, I nod. I nod as she sits up and tugs at my basketball shorts. Tugs until I raise my ass just enough for her to pull the material off. Casting it aside, just as she does with her jersey, and then her own pants. Her erection bobbing as she glides back up my body. 

Lips finding my nipples again. Sucking and twisting as she alternates between the two mounds that have me panting. Panting as I buck my hips against her. Running my hot center over her shaft. Relishing in the pleasure that spreads like a wildfire under my skin. 

“Lek-sa,” I beg, and she kisses her way down. Pulling her cock from my clit to my dismay, but soon it’s replaced by the soft slender finger that circles my nubs as her lips lock on my hip bone. Sucking the flesh as her brings me back to the edge. Her finger gliding down to my entrance, and pressing past the muscles to curve upwards. Curve and stroke my forward wall. 

Her touch soothing, and calming. Pleasure filling in the cracks that insecurity seemed to have torn out of me. The soft caress of her tongue over my clit has my head pulled back and hands coming up to hold her hair. Gripping her tightly to my cunt, though there is no fear of her leaving me wanting.

Not as I contract and her smaller member laps strokes over my nub. The nub that is crying out in pleasure through waves of electricity that has my spots flashing in my vision. Signaling that I am so close to the wormhole of abyss. 

“Fuckk! Please. Lexa… more,” I plead.

Her lips vibrate around my clit as she laughs lightly. Coating the sensitive flesh in her hot breath. Quaking my core, the white heat coiling and tightening.

So close.

Crying out, I beg her, “Lek-sa… fuck me.” 

And she does.

Her second finger dips within as she thrusts into my wanting cunt, my walls collapse around her digits. Holding them within. Blackness surrounding me. Galaxies swirling in my vision and then Lexa’s smiling face that time she showed me favorite place to watch the stars. Stars that twinkle above her face as she leaned in and we shared our first kiss. 

I scratch her head as her lips press open mouth kisses and soft sucks to my labia, and my inner thighs. My muscles weak and tired, but I want more. I want more of everything that is Lexa. 

Her body coming up mine. Skin sliding over the sweaty mess I have become, with a chin coated in my own essence. Coated and glistening in the weak light. Her hand coming up to wipe the excess away. But she doesn’t get the chance as I cease her lips as mine again.Kissing her with a new fervor. 

Legs wrapping around her waist, pinning her cock between us. Allowing me extra friction as I grind against her. Grinding my core against her, over stimulating my clit, but I don’t care. I want her within. I want it so bad that I demand it.

“Get your cock in me,” and her body rises to hover over me. Her eyes squinting down at me, wrestling with the sudden role reversal. “Now,” I annunciate. My hands on her shoulders and legs helping me grind over the base of her shaft. 

Her head tilts, but her hand falls between our bodies. Arm shifting as she strokes herself, letting out a harsh exhale before slapping it against my clit just to remind me that she could punish me right now if she wanted. She could leave me wanting again. 

But she doesn’t. 

Lexa lines her head up with my entrance, holding back just long enough to tell me, “I won’t in this easily in the future.”

Nodding, I smile broadly, and say, “I get the feeling that you’re going to break out the whips and leather at some point, so tonight I’m going to take my chance to be the boss. So quit your stalling and claim me properly.”

The fire in Lexa’s eyes rages, and I am expected a harsh thrust. A reminder that she is the boss and I am hers. But she gives herself over. 

Slowly torturing me. 

Slowly pushing within me. 

Slowly spreading me open to her.

Giving me inch by inch in a smooth and overly careful motion. The stretch around her generous width has me clutching to her shoulders. Fingers digging into her flesh covered flesh as she bottoms out and circles her hips. 

Circles that have me moaning out, as she says, “Just simple pelvic rotation.”

I smack her shoulder. This is no time to joke. Not this is a time for her to fuck me senseless. Her hips don’t pick up though. No, she doesn’t pull out. Rather seems to dig into the bed with her knees, her arm around me. Strong legs are flipping us. Flipping us, so I am now atop her. Straddling her hips as I fall even deeper on to her. Her dick hitting the spot on my frontal wall. My hands gripping coming down to her abs, sinking even further in. Taking time just to rock slightly, enjoying the pressure on my inner spot. 

My hips rolling up and back down just enough that the tip runs up and down that spot but supplying constant pressure. My blood rushing to my sex again. Ripples of pleasures colliding within me, as my body shakes in ecstasy. 

Her release of control has me about to climax again, and it’s even worse as her hands come down to cup my ass and glide me over her member, without having me thrust. Just allowing my to grind my clit against the sculpted figure. My mind floating from how perfectly she fills me.

Her moans become heavy, and I feel her thigh muscles tighten and press upward. Her body begging for friction. For me to run my sex up her shaft and push back down. 

Raising my hands, I run my fingers through my hair. Riding her with the gentle motion, until I feel her hands on my hips. Her hands trying to shift me up further and pull me down farther. Placing my hands down on her abs again, I lift a little but hold still. Hold painfully still as her eyes widen and lips fumble. Unfamiliar with what we both know I am waiting for. 

But when her body can’t thrust upward, she looks within me. Eyes pleading, but I shake my head. Shake my head, and say, “Use your words, my big bad commander.” I sink until I am pleasantly rolling over her sex, pleasing myself again. 

“Please, Ca-lark,” and I raise to reward her. But it’s not enough.

Her chin nodding downward, in a subtle understanding. “I need more… Clarke. More of you.” Raising up until I feel the bulge of her head about to spring free, only to push down harshly. Taking the air from her lungs, as I do it again. And again, until the sweet success of surrender falls from her lips over and over.

“Fuck me, Ca-lark,” she begs. “You’re so tight.”

I rise and fall. My hips rolling and shifted around the shaft. Stroking her cock eagerly and with more speed every time she gives me more of her submission.

Her hips matching my thrusts that have us rising and falling from my loud bed together. Fully in sync, as she pleads, “Ca-lark, let me cum. Please baby girl let me fill you.”

And without a word, I surrender to my own desires. Sloppily grinding against her as the white heat explodes like a dying star taking her with me. Her cock pulsing and hips pumping sloppily as we ride our joint release together. My arms giving out so I am resting across her chest, still filled her. Rippling walls milking her for anything she may be holding back. 

My eyes closing, as I try to catch my breath. Soft pads running up and down my back, as she whispers, “Mine.”

Listening to the sound of her heart beating. The smooth rhythm relaxing me as I echo her words with fingers dancing over her sternum, another aftershock of pleasure pulsing around her, “Mine.”

**Author's Note:**

> Luxi doesn't love soccer, but she loves writing dirty smut.


End file.
